The Sun. — London, England, 1864-09-27 00:00:00

The Prince and Princess of Wales in Denmark. (prom the Times' Special Correspondent.) COPENHAGEN, Thursday. All the male guests appeared in full uniform, those belonging to the volunteer regiment —a corps raised from among the better classes of Copenhagen, and distinguished from those whose service is com pulsory by a dress somewhat resembling that of Lancers dismounted, meeting with quite a warm reception at tho hands of the crowd outside the Palace gates. According to present arrangements the Prince of Wales will go oil board the Osborne to-morrow at Elsinore, and take his departure the same afternoon for Stockholm, remaining in that capital about three or four days, according to circumstances. Including the voyage to and fro an absence of eight days in all is contemplated. His royal highness will be the guest of the King of Sweden during his stay, but the same privacy which has characterised his visit to the north of Europe hitherto will be maintained. On this point etiquette is so rigid that even the passport of his royal highness is not made out in the name of the Prince of Wales. The scenery in the environs of Stockholm is charming, and it is probable that several excursions will be organised in connection with the approaching visit. There is a statement that the King of Denmark may pos• sibly dine on board the Osborne with the Prince of Wales on Saturday, which would, of course, retard the departure for some hours. On this point, howe ever, nothing is positively settled, and the decision will obviously depend in a great measure on the state of the weather at the moment. To-day, after a week of beautiful weather, it is once more rain ing pitilessly. The postal arrangements in Copenhagen are of such an arbitrary character that there was no op• portunity yesterday afternoon of making more than a hasty allusion to the visit of the Royal party to Thorwaldsen's Museum. This building, which is at once the shrine and shroud of the great Danish sculptor, enjoys among artists a world-wide reputa tion ; but to the visitor who may previously have made acquaintance with some only of his best des tached pieces, such as the monumental effigy at Lucerne to the Swiss Guards of Louis XVI., there is a sensation altogether novel in turning from the living creations of his genius to the granite edged slab in the centre of the courtyard under which Thor. waldsen lies buried. Giving for once a refutation to the proverb that "the prophet is not honoured in his own country," this building was commenced in the lifetime of the artist, who was well aware of its double destination, and, in fact, superintended the construction of the vault which was eventually to enclose his remains. The architectural details of the building are largely indebted to the styles visible in both Greek and Etruscan sepulchres, and the mural ornaments of the interior are copied from the decorations of ancient tombs. Allegorical allusions abound everywhere to the genius of Thorwardsen, and the difficulties which it overcame ; and on the summit of the building is a fine bronze casting of Victory in a car checking her steeds in the moment of triumph. The figure of the goddess and that of one of the horses in this group are items reproduced from Thorwaldsen's own designs; the car and the other three horses were modelled by W. Binsen. A description has already been attempted of the curious effect produced by the external wall paint ings in coloured stucco which are intended to set forth the arrival of the sculptor when, in 1838, after an absence of 18 years, he returned to Copenhagen in a vessel carrying the greater portion of the works destined for the Museum. Of the contents of the building it will be sufficient to say they are divided into two parts, the first consisting of pieces of scalp tnre actually chiselled by Thorwaldsen, or copies in marble or plaster of his works, the second being the collection of objects of ancient and modern art which he amassed during his lifetime. Some idea of the extent and interest of the Museum may be gained from the fact.that, irrespective of the plaster casts, it includes no less than four groups, 17 sta tues, 18 busts, 61 bas-reliefs, and a frieze, in marble. The total number of Tborwaldsen's works collected here is about 660. All the sketches and moulds which he used-have been preserved, so that it is possible in the case of each of , his principal works to follow the gradual development of the idea from the first bold outline to the lest delicate touch of the graver. Denmark certainly deserves to produce great men,for in every department—Kings, savants, or artists—their deeds live after them, and their remains are held in honour. Having left Copenhagen, the Royal party re turned to Bernstorf Castle, from which they soon set out again for Sorgenfri or Sans-Souci, the resie dence, of the Queen Dowager, where they dined and spent the evening. This quiet little chateau, lying about six miles from the capital, but not more than two from Bernstorf, was a favourite habitation of King Christian VIII., predecessor of the late King Frederick VII, and from the time of his decease in 1848 Queen Caroline Amelie, his widow, has cons tinned to reside there. Within a very short dis tance from the high road, but shut in by its own grounds,the plain white castle,somc what resembling that of Bernstorf, is only distinguished from a pri vate building of the ordinary character by a little ornamental belfry and clock tower. which, being open, has in the distance very much the effect of a red umbrella prokicting from the roof. The dining hail, which lies in the centre of the building, is the only apartment of large size, and from its five wine down looks out upon a pleasant park of limited extent, but studded with chestnut trees, and sloping at one extremity towards a sheet of orna mental water. In the grounds stand a couple of pillars, ornamented with busts, in memory of a former Crown Prince of Denmark, father of Christian VIII., and his wife, who had English Royal blood in her veins. The bust of the Prince is of brorze, that of the Princess of black stone, sunk into a monolith, PO as to give it precisely the effect of a silln uette. In the quiet beauty of the avenue of trees, stretching away from the front of the house to the chain of lakes that lie beyond Lyngby, and in the confidence of the peacocks strutting along the terrace and waiting their meal from the hands of the Queen, there was confirmation of the stories which residents have to tell of the une ostentatious goodness of life at Sorgenfri. To mem bers of Royal families abroad, as well as to their subjects, there must be an indescribable charm in the absence of parade on such occasions as last evening. Although members of two reigning families were for the time to be guests of the representative of a former dynasty, no restriction was on that account imposed on the access of the public to the grounds. They gathered about the very entrance door, and narrowed the avenue from the carriages so much that the ample dresses of the ladies arriving had not more than the necessary room to pass; but the only custodians—if such they could be called—were two footmen in Royal liveries standing on the doorstep. There were costumes of all kinds in the crowd—stn death' caps from Upsula and Copenhagen, residents in the neighbourhood whose dresses might have passed for English, and peasant women with their wonderful silk bonnets and gilt crowns, The names of the guests gave rise to some curious reflections. Prince Bentheim Steinfort's title recalled the fact that the QueenaDowager herself is sister to that Duke of Augustsnburg who compounded for his claim to the Duchies, and consequently aunt to the Pretender of the present day. The Count de Dan neskiold- Samsoe, on the other hand, is a noble man of lung Danish pedigree, a near connection of our own noble house of Ailesbury, and one who enjoys the privilege of having the livery nearest in colour to that of the King of Denmark. The wonderful headpieces and tall green feathers of the Chasseurs waiting on the foreign equipages were in marked contrast to the tight-buttoned coats and English hats that drove up with the carriage of Sir Augustus and Lady Paget. Last of all, and punc tual to the moment of 6 o'clock, came the equipages, with their scarlet liveries, bringing the King and Queen of Denmark, the Prince and Princess of Wales, and the rest of the Royal family. They were received in perfect silence, but otherwise with every demonstration of respect, and, having passed into the house and exchanged congratulations with their Royal hostess, the company at once sat down to dinner. FRIDAY. Last evening the officers of the Burgher Guard of Copenhagen were entertained at dinner at the Christiansborg Palace by his Majesty the King of Denmark. Ever since the day when the review did not take place, there had been a sort of slumbering dissatisfaction at the absence of the Prince of Wales, and the oeosion, therefore, when the heads of the force would have the opportuaity of meeting his Royal Highness at table was naturally looked for ward to with interest. Every one who had hitherto seen and spoken to the Prince of Wales was im pressed most faveurably with his manner and bear ing, and even those who had merely been able to obtain a passin g glimpse of his features united in declaring that the photographic likenesses failed to d o Lim justice. It is satisfactory, therefore, to know that the entert a in me nt of last evening formednoexception to the general rule, and that the representative of the Royalty of England was mos t highly thought of by all with whom be cams in contact. To meet the officers of the National Guard and volunteers a distinguished com rmY ""mble:,ieeluding tho pri n cip a l o ff icers o f the Britie l , Aurora, which la eels ßo m stilt in Chess waters, the ,tuTeolehat of a heavy sail -A., havinr 'Wren ,her atp,, Yesterday for Stockhol m Prince Wilhelm, father ci the Queen of Denma r k, the Princess of Wales, and elder m em b ers o f the Royal family were p n with th© members of the Eoglish and D snicksaitesln all, l ab ou t 70 were persona sat down to dinner. Th e tab laid in the second great room of the Ch: is llen, known Re an appartement sal , re ry Th a l which the concert given a few eveni uga na,Z THE SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING% SEPTEMBER 27, 1864. THE CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA. (From the Times' Correspondent,) NEW YORK, Sept. 13. " The weather is beautiful and all things are bright," says Mr Stanton, in his last despatch to General Dix. It is the aspect of the war that is so pleasant in the eyes of the War Secretary ? That can scarcely be, for General Sherman is resting and intrenching himself at Atlanta, unable to turn his victory to account, and all is quiet at St. Petersburg and Richmond, and stagnant at Mobile. Can it be the graceful flattery of Mr Seward, comparing him to Carnot, the organiser of victory, that has put Mr Stanton, into a state of such unwonted beatitude ? That is not likely, for a man so unpopular and who despises public opinion so much as he knows how to estimate at their proper value the praise and blame of his contemporaries. Or is it pre-eminently the aspect of the political campaign that shines so vividly in his imagination, and fills his heart with such all but unutterable joy ? Most probably. He and the Administration of which he is the prop and ornament have reason to rejoice. The entente cor diale of the war and the peace sections has come to an abrupt termination. Atlanta and Mobile have roused the drooping spirits of " Tammany," and stimulated the war fever to such an extent, that Gen. M'Clellan has been emboldened to accept the Chicago nomination without accepting the prin ciples embodied in the " platform ;" and thus it has come to pass that the Democratic canddate has broken up the Democratic party. The peace men are indignant that General M'Clellan, in whom they never had more than a half confidence, should have dared to place his private and per sonal opinion above that of the assembled Demo cracy, and call for a new Convention and a new candidate. Under such promising circumstances as these Mr Stanton and all who desire the reeelec• tion of Mr Lincol❑ may well rejoice. The Republi cans are in ecstasies. They see before them a bright future of power and plunder. For them the foreign embassies, for them the brigadier general ships, for them the rich contracts for the supply of mules and horses, hay and straw, beef and whisky, shoddy coats and pantaloons, head coverings and foot coverings, and all that goes to the subsistence of an army and the comfort or discomfort of the soldier. For their opponents there is nothing but the cold shade of opposition, the privilege to grum ble, and the hungering after place, profit, and ernolu meat that shall never reward them as long as Lin coln i 3 President, or as any man of Republican poli tics shall reign is his stead. On Saturday morning, after a day's reflection, the New York Daily News, the able, consistent, and fearless advocate of peace and of all the principles on which: the {Lien of the States was founded, and on which alone its perpe tuation is paesible, declared formally against M'Ciellan, and received the cordial adhesion of that section of the partywith whom it acts, and on whose behalf it speaks. Mr Vallandigham, who was about to stump the West (i.e., proceed thither on a politi cal and oratorical tour to support the nominee of Chicago), and who had already left home for the purpose, was no sooner made aware of the terms of Gen. M'Clellan's acceptance than he washed. his hands of him and declined to speak another word in his behalf. Mr Pendleton, the nominee for the Vice-Presidency, is expected to declare himself in a manner quite as unwelcome to the War Democrats as Gen, M'Clellan's letter has been to the friends of peace, and further complications may be hourly ex pected. What the result may be it is impossible to foreshadow, but the present indications are that it is hopeless for the peace party to go in quest of, or at all events to find, a candidate of sufficient note, influence, and popularity to stand on their platform —that Gen. M'Clellan without their votes will be defeated, and either with or without the formal withdrawal of Gen. Fremont, that Mr Lincoln will be re-elected. The War Democrats are exceedingly sorry at what they call the " bolt" and the defection of Mr Benjamin Wood and the party who think liberty preferable to union ; but they are divided in opinion as to the importance of the movement. One section affects to consider it an advantage to the Democratic party to be rid of such allies, while another pro. claims that Mr Lincoln's greenbacks are at the bot tom of the whole business, and that Mr Fernando Wood and his brother Benjamin have been acting all along in Mr Lincoln's interest. Bat this tale, though it suits party malignity to invent and set it afloat, deceives no one who does not wish to be de ceived, least of all any one who has watched the growth and development of the peace party, or who knows its affiliations and ramifications not only in New York, but in all other parts of the country. The War Democrats as well as the Republicans are just now rampant. The chill of despondency has been replaced by the fever of excitement, conse quent upon victory ; but a reverse to the Federal arms at Atlanta or Petersburg, or the valley of the Shenandoah, will cool their blood again, and in cline some of them to the pleasant paths they too hastily abandoned, A peace candidate, though at at present easier to discover than to elect, might chance to be elected at the eleventh hour if the fortune of war were to go strongly against the North during the next four or five weeks, Yesterday Wall -street was full of rumours of ill fortune. It was said that Grant had been driven with heavy slaughter from hie position on the Weldon Railroad, and that General Sherman was closely beleaguered in Atlanta with provisions but for seven days, and that all his communication s had t i me t h e eff e ct of sending u p the prwiceeekof, been cut off. These statement s h a d for a short under gold, which had fallen rapidly during th e the influence of the hopeful turn which the public mind had taken, but as they were not based on authority that any one could trace they ob. tained but partial credence, and speedily gave way to reports of a more cheerful character—in vented by tho speculators fur a fell. Of these the most prominent was a positive statement that Ad miral Farragut, acting in successful conjunction with General Gordon Granger, has taken possession of Mobile; and that the Federal fleet, relieved from further duty in that quarter, had been ordered to Wilmington. The story was as baseless as its com petitor, but it operated to send gold down to 214, and to keep it in that neighbourhood for about an rumours of evil again attained It'[lell7e:PceUnciltainir:ll.7lY and the price went up to 221 1 at which it closed. To-diy there has been a further rise to 2274 —though there has been nothing in the army or other news to account for the fluctua tion. But military and political reasons alone have not caused the decline of the week. Gold is nol in as much demand as it was two months ago. The imp porters of foreign goods are not only diminishing Cr counterrannding their orders, bat Ir.s.vc for r, con* siderable time been re-exporting their bonded stocks to Europe. There is consequently no great compee tition for gold to pay the Customs duties, and, in fact, there is a slighter need of gold than at any previous time during the war. The most urgent buyer in the market is the Secretary of the Trea sury, who must have coin for the payment of inte rest, or else break faith with the public creditor; so that even if the prospects of war should improve and the military situation become as bright in com mercial and financial eyes as the political situation is in those of Mr Stanton, it is not probable that gold will reach a much lower point than 200. A recently published letter from Mr Blair, the Nestor of the party in power, the trusted adviser of Mr Lincoln, and one who is supposed to have greater influence over his mind than any person or combination of persons in the country, shows that, in anticipation of hostile action on the part of the Governments of Great Britain and France, it was deemed prudent two years ago to encourage the most cordial relations with Russia. Mr Blair does not stand alone in his admiration for the Czar, and, in his belief, if the Federal Government requires an ally in Europe, the best, if not the only possibly ally is Russia. The press on every available occa sion panders to this feeling, and when in the autumn of 1863 a Russian fleet vtsited this port, all classes of the people united in giving the admiral and offi cers, and even the sailors, a magnificent reception, such as was never before accorded to the maritime or military representatives of any other nation. The Russians were at u loss to account for their enor mous popularity, though the reasons were patent enough to everybody else. Russia was then, and is now, declared to be the only real friend that the Federal Union has in Europe, with the exception of Switzerland, which is but a poor relation, too powerless and insignificant to be highly valued. It is inculcated on the popular mind that the two dominant Powers of the future are to be Russia in the Old World and Federal America in the New, and that an alliance between them—firm, stable, and cordial—will reduce all other kingdoms, States, and empires to the inferior position befitting their size and decrepitude. And certainly there is not only- sympathy between the Americans sod the Russians in their lust of dominion, but a very con siderable similarity in the principles of action which are avowed by their respective Governments. The Czar emancipates the serfs, but exterminates with relentless cruelty the rebellious Poles who desire to govern themselves after their own fashion. 14r Lincoln, in like manner, emancipates negro slaves, and strives to exterminate the Southern people for the unpardonable offence of dis solving their political connexion with a popula tion whom they both hate and despise. The atrocities committed by the Czar in Poland have not only found hosts of admirers and apologists in America, but the country has produced scores of Brigadier and Major-Generals, such as Butler, Schenck, Milroy, Burnside, and others—to carry out a policy of vengeance. The Czar never eta• ployed more ruthless, unscrupulous, and brutal in struments than these four. Maryland long suffered, Louisiana still groans under the lash ; but the real Poland of America this moment is to be sought in Kentucky, where a man has been placed in military command who combines the worst qualities of all previous tyrants of this kind, and adds new ones peculiarly his own. General Mouravicff has found his equal in Brigadier-General Paine, who rules over the Western District of that sorely sfflicted State. It is not often that publicity is given to the doings of this ferocious despot. The Kentucky editors dare not record his cruelty, lest they should be tried by drum-head court-martial, made to dig their own graves, and shot on the edge of them; and the exiles who fly from persecution are scarcely believed when they arrive at a more peace able section of the Union, if they tell the tale of their wrongs. Bat a friendly pen has been found to record the services of General Paine, and to hold them up to the approval of the Federal Government and the admiration of the world. A correspondent of the Chicago Tribune, writing from Paducah, under date of the let of September, narrates with the utmost simplicity and good faith, and as if General Paine were the greatest and best man in the world, a story that is enough to concentrate on the head of its hero the detestation of everybody but the hangman. On assuming command in July last, he is reported to have addressed a deputation of leading citizens, whom he suspected or knew to be opposed to the war waged by Mr. Lincoln against the South, in the following among other terms—" You disloyal, rebellious people," he said, " you shall not circulate one dollar of capital in all this land. Not a dollar, no debt or bill of exchange, shall be paid or made without my signature. I pledge you my word I will not approve of any commercial transactions made by a disloyal man. . . . All your capital, all your money, every cent of it, shall be placed at the disposal of the Government. I will teach you that having encouraged this rebellion you must—aye, and you shall, reap the reward of traitors. , . Talk to me about your rights! Why, you have no rights to talk about, Loyal men are the only people who have rights at this time. . . . Talk to me of giving you a banking privilege ! Great God I the Devil might as well ask the Almighty for a front seat in Heaven. . . , In your prosperity:yoa despised this great and good Government, You shall have the privilege to love it in your adversity. And more than that, you shall fight for it. You are able-bodied men, but think yourselves too good to fight, We shall see about that. . . You keep harping about your rights —that miserable, insane idea. . . My second com mandment to you that all of you notorious rebels get out of your houses and leave my district, so that Union men may come and take your places, and help me to redeem this country. . . . I shall shoot every guerilla taken in my district ; and if your Southern brethren retaliate by shooting a Federal soldier, I will walk out five of you rich bankers, brokers, and cotton men, and make you kneel dews, and shoot you. I will do it, so help me God ! . . If a Union man is murdered by guerillas here, the same fate awaits five of you. I have sworn it, and . it shall be done. . . lam going to manage this district so that when I am done with it the men and women who remain can come together, in the name of the Lord, and say We be. long to the United States.' " Gen. Paine, whose speech, which I herewith enclose to you in extenso, might afford many more such furious ea. cerpts, has been as good as his word. In a General Order, No. 6, dated Ihe 23d of July, be prohibited all persons occupying lands, houses, barns, buildings, &e., from paying any rent to any landlords and owners who were not " unswerving, unconditional, and undeviating Union persons;" and in General Order No. 7, issued three days afterwards, he pro hibited all banks from paying out money, honouring checks, or making transfers, unless by his own special permission and signature. How many men he has caused to be shot the appreciative historian neglects to tell; bat how many he has banished from their homes—men, women, and children—may be estimated within a fraction by any one who will take the last census of the western half of Kentucky, and count the number of bankers, landowners, lawyers, physicians, manufacturers, and merchants, and everybody above the condition of an Irish teamster or day labourer. A deduction of about 25 per cent, from that number will leave the balance sought. Kentucky belongs to the military, to the s; e ai u n t d negroes, and a sma ll m i nor i ty of poor and unin fluent ial white men w h o arenot of importance enough to b e command o n b d e mi such atnhde s3p S as Kentucky Ipeople ow ahbo en appointed po ocinowcarry re i yd General s the whole pe r South Paine t w ill o m out their favourite idea of Southern subjugation. CLASSICAL WIT..--Dr. Maginn dining with a friend on ham and chicken, addressed Sukey Boyle, his friend's housekeeper, thus .—" You know, Boyle, what old Ovid in his ' Art of Love' (book iii.), says; I give you the same wish : " Sniper tibi pgnclfat hams,' May yon always have a ham hanging in your kitchen." The doctor insisted that tea was well known to the Romans, for, said he, " even in the time of Plautus it was a favou rite beverage with the ladies— Amant - te omnes mulieres.' " Glor., Act i., sci., v. 58, Observing Salley Boyle, he said to his friend, "Ah I John, I see you follow the old advice we both learned at school, xoptCov ri f Tvx;) Indulge yourself with Sukey.' " There was some hock at dinner, which he thus eulogised " ' Hoc turn FCC vas paulafim mitigat hoc minuit luctus moe;dcque cerda levat.' " —ov. Trise, lib, iv., el vi., v. 15, IG. Murder and Cannibalism in Bohemia, News comes from Bohemia of a revolting crime committed there on a widow lady in her 66th year, named Conrad, who resided at Eidlitz, and lived upon the rents of a little landed property which she possessed, in that neighbourhood. On Sept. 7 she left Eidlitz on a pilgrimage to Quinau, situated between four and five miles distant from the former place. She passed the night of the 7th with her two married daughters, who resided in the intervening town of Komotau, and at half-past 5 o'clock on the following morning set out again on foot over the hills to take her offering to the mass at Quinau. She never returned, and search was made for her. Late in the evening of the following day a party of the searchers, who included many of the villagers residing at Quinau and the vicinty, came upon the horribly muti lated and perfectly naked corpse of the old lady. Her arms, legs, breasts, and other parts had been cut off and wore nowhere to be found. The corpse lay in a thicket at the end of the wood, near the hamlet of Sperbersdorf, and as there was not a single article of clothing nor any traces of blood to be found at this spot, it was concluded that the murder had been committed in some remote spot and the corpse dragged to the spot where it was discovered in the night after the commission of the crime. 'Up to the evening of the 11th no trace of the murderer or murderers could be found. But on that day suspicion rested on a wan called Triseh, or Antony, but better known by the name of Russ, derived from his fellow-countrymen who had deserted him at Komotau in the year 1813, just before the battle of Leipsic, when he was an infant. He was notorious for his wild and rude character from his infancy, and had been imprisoned. He gained his livelihood as a bricklayer, and was a good workman when he was in the humour. On the morning of the 12th the police arrested him while at work upon a house. When charged with the perpetration of the murder he at once confessed his guilt with the utmost readi ness and indifference, and took the police to his lodging, where he gave up to them the clothes he had stripped from the murdered woman, with her umbrella and five florins in money. He was immediately taken before the local magis trate, and then made the facet confession of his crime, re lating its most horrifying details with the greatest coolness. According to his own account, he wished to marry a young woman to whom he was engaged, and intended to gain his living for the future by the help of a barrel-organ, for which however, the licence was refused, as the police would not give him the certificate of good conduct requisite in such, cases in Austria. Hereupon his " bride " deserted him and married another, and his only thoughts were now bent on vengeance. In this state of mind he went out towards Quinau at 6 o'clock on the morning of the 81h, and re solved to murder the first woman he met, whoever she might be. Chance brought the aged widow Conrad across his path shortly after he set out, and he at once compelled her to go with him into a lonely part of the forest, where, after committing violence on her, he took her life by throttling her with his hands. She died in three minutes. He next stripped her to the skin,cut of various parts off her body, as above particularised, and carried the fragments of human flesh, together with her clothes, the umbrella, and five florins, with him to his lodgings. The next day—and this is the moat hideous part of the story,—he boiled the haman flesh with some potatoes, and consumed the whole of it, with the exception of the fat, which he skimmed from his canni bal stew and poured into a bottle. The latter he put in his pocket and then went coolly to his work as usual, which he pursued until his arrest took place, three days subsequently. At 9 o'clock the remains of the unfortunate woman were interred in the churchyard of Komotau, almost all the in habitants turning out to follow in the procession. Soon afterwards her murderer was escorted to the Town-hall of Ko.notau, on his way to the prison of Kaabcn, where he now lies awaiting his trial. The Atrocious Murder at Chadwell Heath. EXAMINATION Ol' THE PRISONER. Yesterday morning Francis \Vaine, aged 40, was placed at the bar, before the local bench of magistrates at Strat ford, Mr J. Gurney Fry presiding, charged with the wilful murder of Amelia Blunt, a woman with whom he formerly cohabited, and whom he is alleged to have slain through jealousy. _ The court and its precincts were densely crowded by per sons desirous of obtaining a view of the prisoner. The approaches to the court had to be kept clear by a large body of police. The case created great excitement throughout the whole district. Mr Superintendent Howie, of the K division, kid charge of the case. The prisoner, on being placed at the bar, manifested self possession. Ile is a tall, powerful man, of about 6 feet in height, and he was dressed in workhouse clothes, his own having been removed in consequence of their having marks of blood upon them. The first witness called was Jas. "Warren, who deposed— I was at my house, at Warren's Cottage, Chadwell Heath, on Saturday morning, at a quarter past 10 o'clock, and a female caLled me. That female was the deceased, and she lodged with me. Iler name was Amelia Blunt. She asked me to go for a pint of beer. I then left tho house, leaving her in the washhouse. She then gave rue 21d. to pay for the beer. I went to the Wnite Horse public-house. The deceased was a widow. She lived with me to keep my house, I was away from the house about halt an hour. I had left the house by the back door. When I returned I entered the cottage by the front door. I called, ".illy, here's the beer," I received no answer. 1 called out again. T then went through the house into the bakehouse. I had first laid the beer on the table. Upon reaching the bakehouse I saw—(here the witness 1.)..!e1n k: d reply aff-,cte.d, and he "I wish to tell all")—I saw Milly standing, lean ing with one arm on the copper, She was covered with blood, which was oozing from her throat. 1 said, " what have you done ?" She gave a deep groan. I lifted her cff the copper in my arms, I stood with her in my arms for a moment. She was covered in a pour of blood. My hands and dress then became bloody, and the front part of my dress also became covered with blood. I was very weak. [The witness was an old man of about SO years of ago. Re entered the court leaning on a stick, While giving his evidence he supported himself by means of the rail of the witness-box.] Witness continued—She was a shotr stout woman. She was very heavy. I fell on the ground with her in my arms. I then became insensible, Row long I lay on the ground in that state I dont know. 1 wish to tell all I know. lam telling the truth. The Magistrate— I believe you are telling the truth. Witness—Milly groaned once while she was lying on me on the ground. When I recovered from my insensible state I got up and went to the house of Mrs Archer,who lives about 60 or 70 yards from my door. I said to Mrs Archer " Milly has fallen down in a fit, for she lies in a pool of blood." Mrs Archer then left the house, and she wont to her sister's. I then ran across the common for assistance. I saw Jue Bardelnoy, and he went back with me to my house. I found Police-constable Dunmow, 331 K, and a Mr Fitch there. My eyes are very bad and I cannot tell who were there. I then went indoors and sat down, I was overcome. I had marked the gate of my house with my bloody hand as I went out. The Magistrate—What has become of the woman ? Witness—She is lying in the bakehouse as I fouud her. The Magistrate asked the prisoner if he would put any questions to the witness. Prisoner—Yes, sir. Did you see me do anything, or did you see me there ? Witness—l never saw you on my premises. Magistrate—Any more questions to ask? Prisoner—No ; no other. The witness fainted in the court, and he had to be carried outside. Mr Charles Fitch said—l keep the White Horse on Chaiwell-heath, in the parish of Dagenham. About five minutes past 10 o'clock on Saturday morning I was crossing Chadwell-heath, in the direction of my own house, I saw the prisoner Francis Waino close by Chadwell Mills, corn ing towards me. Ho was walking as if coming from the high road, Warren's cottage is on the heath. Where I saw the prisoner is about 200 yards from the cottage, but ho was not going in that direction. I went home, and had been at home about half an hour when Mr Warren came to my house, and asked for a pint of half-and-half. He brought a jug with him. I then went out in the garden at the back of my house to see one of my children. I remained with the child half an hour. In consequence of information I re ceived I went over to Warren's cottage and looked through the window, I saw the deceased lying on her side in a pool of blood. There was a great deal of blood about. I said, " Why, this woman has been murdered." I got a horse and cart, and fetohed Dr Bowers, of Itomford. I met him on the high road. I went with the doctor to Warren's cot tage, and saw him examine the body of deceased. I observed four gashes in her throat. I then, in company with Dr Bowers, traced very peculiar footmarks in and out of the cottage. The footmarks were those of a short foot. They were made in ploughed land, about 20 yards to and from the cottage. We could see where some one had got over a gap into the field. Some of the footmarks were in the direction of the cottage, and none of them were going from it. I said to the doctor that I thought the footmarks were those of the prisoner. There is a peculiarity in the prisoner's feet and walk. There is a very faint impression of the toes. The loft footmarks appeared to lie opposite to those of the right foot. The steps made in going towards the cottage were longer than those made going from it. It was 5 minutes to 11 when I went to the cottage. There seemed to be no heel to the right foot. Magistrate—Do you wish to ask this witness any ques tions ? Prisoner—None, sir. Ido not milt to ask any. Mr Robert Arnold Bowers deposed—l am a surgeon. I reside at Rc,mford. On last Saturday morning I mot Mr Fitch on the high road leading to Chodwe!l. From infor mation he gave ine I went with him to Warren's cottage. Wit. n I arrived there I was shown into the back washhouse. I there saw a female lying on her left side, on the floor, in a large pool of blood. I examined her and found three large wounds on the right side of her throat. One transverse, the other Cunning obliquely from that one. The other one was just above the collar bone. Everyone of the wounds deeply penetrated the muscles and the carotid artery, and I passed my finger down into the wound, and I felt the vertebra). Magistrate—Was it possible for the deceased to inflict those wounds upon herself? Witness—lt was impossible for her to have inflicted them herself. There was a cut over the left thumb above the knuckle, as if done in self-protection of the right shoulder. I am clearly of opinion that they were not self-inflicted wounds. The body was quite warm, and she had not been dead an hour. Magistrate—Was there any appearance of a struggle ? Witness—She had apparently laid hold of the back of the copper in the struggle, and the mortar in front of the cop- , per had given way. Her hair was very much disordered in the struggle. I accompanied the last witness into the field, and I saw the footmarks on the ploughed land. Tho wounds inflicted upon the deceased would cause instant death. The marks have been correctly described by Fitch. Magistrate—. Do you wish to ask the doctor any questions ? Prisoner—What questions can I ask him? I know nothing about it. John Turner, labourer, Romford, said—On Saturday, at a little before 10 o'clock, I saw the prisoner in a road which leads from the main road near Chadwell. I noticed the pri soner walk out of the road into his brother's field. I asked him how was it he was not at work for his brother. He said, "No, I don't know that I want any. If you wait a little while, you will soon hear of something up." He then walked up the field. He came back and took something out of the hedge and put it under his jacket, but I do not know what it was. He then walked up the road towards Chadwell Mills, on Chadwell-heath. He added nothing after he said " Hear of something up." I thought he was going to work at his brother's, and I told his brother so afterwards. Magistrate—Prisoner, have you any questions to ask? Prisoner—He has been telling all false. The prisoner was ultimately committed to Ilford gaol. SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS. TIMES.—The presentation of prizes at Leeds to the successful candidates in the Middle-class Exits minations offered an appropriate opportunity for Sir Stafford Northcote's energetic defence of the present movement of middle-class education. The surprising activity of the West Riding Educational Board could not but suggest speculation on the use or, the purpose of so much energy. The list of exa minations held in the coarse of the past year was enough to justify Mr. Beecroft's astonished reflec tions at the sort of examination atmosphere in which he found himself. The Chinese, we believe, have outdone us-long ego, but with this exception it is probably true that "since the days of Adam such a series of examinations has not been heard or thought of as that which falls to the lot of this generation." Yorkshire, at all events, has never been so examined before. In October the local examinations for the University of Durham were held at Leeds; in De cember the examinations for the University of Cambridge; in January the provincial matriculation examination of the University of London. In March the elementary examinations in connection with the Society of Arts were held in Leeds and in 18 other towns is Yorkshire. In April the Society of Arts held examinations. In May followed the examina tion of the pupils of science classes for the Depart ment of Science and Art. In May and June the University of Oxford held its local examinations; and, lastly, in June the University of London held a second half-yearly matriculation examination. Even to this list of experiments Sir S. Northcote could add two more, The Royal Agricultural So ciety and others have set on foot movements for the education of the farmers, and a commission is about to be issued to inquire into the state of the Grammar schools throughout the country—institutions which have been supposed to have a close relation to the middle classes. The very number and apparent con• fusion of these experiments might, perhaps, be ad duced as an illustration of the uncertain nature of the ground upon which this movement is at present proceeding, and Sir S. Northcote seems accordingly to have thought it necessary to begin from the very principles of the subject. He very wisely, there. fore, commenced by pointing out to the enthusias tic friends of the movement who surrounded him that, before they came to any conclusion on the subject, they ought to satisfy themselves of the object they aim at. It should be settled, that is, what is meant by education and what is meant by the middle class. Starting from these wino and general questions, he occupied a great part of his speech with somo observations which are equally useful, whatever view we may take of the contro verted part of the subject. All education, he urged, must be conducted on the same general principles, and therefore must have some main features which should be universal ; but it is applied to different subjects and in different circumstances, and must, consequently, receive constant modification. Both these sides of the question require to be carefully kept in view. Our first object is to secure the best sort of general training possible ; our nexr is to give every man a special adaptation to his peculiar work in life. The two operations are sufficiently indicated by the now familiar distinc tion between education and instruction, the first implying a general, the second a special training. There have been rapid oscillations in the public mind between the opposite attractions of these two methods. At one time there has been a general cry for teaching what are called useful things, and the value of a system of instruction has been too much estimated by the amount of tangible know.- ledge it supplies; at the present time Sir Stafford Northcote thinks the danger is of the other ex treme. There is too much tendency to underrate the value of special information, and to aim at a vague general development of mind and body. It is certainly never so important to bear this double office of education in mind as in planning the education of the middle classes. On the one hand, from the course of their laborious lives being early cast into ono groove, they are especially in need of a broad and liberal training so long as they have any time to submit to it; and, on the other hand, from the extremely special character of their work they are particularly conscious of the want of special training. So far matters are clear. The difficulties begin when Sir Stafford Northeote pro ceeds to ask more definitely what is that middle class for the peculiar needs of which we are thus to strike the balance between education and instruction. It is, as he says,impossible to define a class in Eng land. It would be almost impossible to point out any defined break between a duke and a day. labourer; and this difficulty will be always in the way of any such general scheme as some persons contemplate. At the utmost Sir S. Northcote could only suggest one general characteristic. In all cases which fall under the class in question the boys have to be removed from school at an unusu ally early age, and set to learn the work of their life. The question is thus reduced to one of time. We want in all cases the beat education which can be got. But this depends, to a very great degree, upon the amount of time which can be given to it, In the upper classes education often continues until the age of 23 ; but in the middle classes the son cannot be allowed to be drawing on the family re sources all that time without adding to them, and, besides in most of the business of the middle classes it is absolutely n ecessary f or a man to commence his acquaintance with his work while he is quite young. The problem, therefore, from this point of view, is to give a boy as good a general education as is possible in the short time he can spare for it, say up to the age of 15 or 16,—and to provide him also with opportunities forgetting that amount and that particular kind of instruction which his ap proaching active life may require. It may, perhaps also be suggested by this consideration that the best plan would be to make the education as general as possible until the boy enters on his practical work, and to give him opportunities for special instruction. But then the question occurs, how shall it be determined what is the general instruction proper to this age ? Such a question, says Sir Stafford Northcote, can hardly be left to be decided by the simple question of supply and demand, for the father does not know clearly what to demand. He is not likely to know exactly what he wants, and he may easily be imposed upon by a cheap and flashy education. Here, urged Sir S. Northeote, comes in the use of examinations, but he showed himself, at the same time, aware of the great difficulties which attend them. As far as conce rns that ge neral mental education we have sp o k en o f, ex p er i e nced institutions like the Universities may be well able to judge what is the kind and the amount of 'pro ficiency which a boy ought to have reached, and their local examinations may establish a satisfac tory standard. But as the special instruction re quired, it is impossible to lay down any certain rule for the course it shall follow. It must adapt itself to the wants of each class, and the law of supply and demand must be left to itself. At the utmost, examinations can but direct the course of study in each special subject, and establ ish a stan dard for parent, master, and scholar. And a harder question remains. Quis custodict ipsoscustodes? [low shall we insure that the examinations them selves do their work properly ? They may do more harm than good. They may encourage flashy learning, and break the hearts of laborious and con scientious masters. For this danger Sir S. North. cote could suggest no remedy, and it must, we fear, be left to be watched and avoided by public opinion. The law of supply and demand will probably be found, after all, somewhat more universa l i in its ap plication than Sir S'a ff ord Northcote s inclined to allow. It is not exactly true that the demand is on:y made by the parent. The whole public makes the demand, and in originating the exami nations, which seem to meet a demand among parents, the Universities and the Government are but supplying the wider and more imperious clamour of the public. POST.—The division which has taken place in the Democratic party in America wilt not irnproe bably throw the victory into the hands of their Re publican opponents at the forthcoming election. The nominee of the Chicago Convention has by an ill-timed frankness estranged from himself some of hie most influential, if not hie warmest supporters, and must now rely for success upon a moiety of the faction which, undivided, would easily have placed him at the head of the poll. The experience of the last four years is evidently lost upon the Democrats, and once again a schism in their own camp promises to rob them of their coveted share in the adminis tration of the State. Interpreting the resolutions of the Convocation in their l iteral signification, and apparently scorning the device of an arrierepensec, General M'Clellan declared that the re-establish ment of the Union should be his sole object, and that to its attainment he would sacrifice all other considerations. By some of the framers of the rma lutions, however, their meaning was understood differently. That they wished to see the two Con federacies united was evident; but, at the same time, they desired to anticipate and provide for the contingency of their severance being perpetual. The restoration of the Republic in its original form was unquestionably the object of their desires, but the cessation of hostilities and the re-establishment of peace were ends to whose attainment they looked forward with equal anxiety. If the two were in compatible, they were prepared to sacrifice the former. The Peace Democrats did not say this in as many words, but they undoubtedly meant it. The nominee on whom, as it would seem, they somewhat hastily fixed, entertained different views, and failed to discover any road to peace except through an undivided Republic. Heence the result, the tidings of which have been communicated to us by the late mail. General M'Clellan no longer possesses the undivided support of the. Democratic party. When noticing the resolutions passed by the Chicago Convention we pointed out the main difficulties which beset the path of the Democrats, and the necessity under which they were placed of endeavouring to conciliate, if possible, all classes, by adhering to the programme of a restored Union. If their efforts have not been crowned with success, the failure must alone be ascribed to their having at tempted an impossibility. The issue offered to the Northern population is a very simple one, and one which it is perfectly idle for any party in the State to hope to evade, Either the rebellion must be crushed, or, what is the same thing, vigorous efforts must still be made to attain that end, or the inde pendence of the new Confederacy must be recogs nised. The Republican party frankly pledge them selves to leave no stone unturned in order to place the State on its original footing, and on this "plate form" they are content to stand or fall. The Demo• crats, so far as words go, say pretty much the sarre thing, but at the same time they deprecate a further prosecution of the war in a tone which leaves it to be inferred that they would not unwillingly see peace restored, even though at the cost of the integ rity of the State. The Republicans are desirous of seeing the war prosecuted with vigour, no matter at what cost ; the Democrats, on the other hand, are divided, some entertaining feelings not dissimilar from those which actuate their opponents, whilst the rest ardently desire peace. In fixing upon Gen. M'Clellan, the peace section of the Democrats be. lieved they had chosen a man who had from personal experience satisfied himself of the futility of any hopes based upon the re-establishment of the Union, and one who would accordingly take an early oppor tunity after his accession to power of proclaiming the subjugation of the South to be an impossibility. It however unluckily happened that they fixed upon a war Democrat,hspon a man who is prepared if needs be, to go even to greater lengths than Mr Lincoln in his attempts to restore the Union by main force. The mistake which they committed has now become manifest, and they have withdrawn their countenance from one who does not in truth repre sent them. The only result, then, of the Chicago Convention has been to divide the Democratic faction into two distinct parties, and to leave them a candidate who, not being able to secure the confi dence of both, cannot ultimately be returned as the representative of either. It is curious that, with scarcely an exception, the several organs of the English press inferred that the nomination of Gee. M'Ciellan might be accepted as the inauguration of a peace policy. As soon as the decision of the Con vention at Chicago became known almost every one declared that an armistice was imminent, and that the war might be considered virtually at an end. We took occasion to warn our readers against fall ing into similar errors, and pointed out that in all probability the policy of M'Clellan, if elected, would differ in no important respect from that of his pre decessor. It is now notorious that the election of the quondam leader of the Army of the Potomac was viewed by the Confederates with greater appre hension than the re-election of Mr Lincoln, and the justness of their conclusions has now been fully confirmed. The one, like the other, would prosecute a relentless war, bat with this difference, that the ex-soldier and engineer would evince an ability which up to the present the ex-attorney has never displayed. It is not surprising, then, that the chiefs of the peace party should withdraw their support from a candidate who would unquestionably inaugu rate his official career with military operations on a gigantic scale, and who would not improbably make the war last as long as the term of his magistracy. It has been proposed to reassemble the chiefs of the Democratic party in order to select some can didate who should command the confidence of all. There is yet time for another convention ; but even when assembleo, the difficulty will remain the same of choosing a candidate who shall recom mend himself equally to the two sections of the Democratic party. The paramount desire of both Democrats and Republicans is to secure the supreme power; and, in order to attain that object, it le mains to be seen whether the former will be con tent to eflect some settlement of those differences which at present excite disunion in their ranks. The peace Democrats will, it would seem, make no concessions, and, unless some compromise is effected. will probably give their support to the Republican candidate. General Fremont is still in the field, but the universal opinion is not only that his candida ture will prove unsuccessful, bat that it will not materially affect Mr. Lincoln's chances of success. As matters at present stand, the President is cer tainly the favourite, and, unless displaced by some one pledged to a peace policy, we are far from thinking that he is not the fittest person to govern the Northern States until the termination of the war. His abilities are far below mediocrity, but at all events ho posit sea great experience. He ought to know better than any man in America what the North can do, and "chat it cannot do, and, possess ing that knowledge, it is not unreasonable to pre sume that he may turn it to account. He has hitherto professed to beiieve that eventually the South must succumb, but when entering on a new lease of office be might seize the opportunity of modifying his creed. There is little to choose be. tween a war Republican and a war Democrat ; but, whatever difference there may be, it would seem that, in the opinion of those who most ardently desire peace, preponderat es i n f avour o f the former. Viewing the struggle from a distance, we can perhaps form a better estimate of the result than those actually engaged in the conflict, and we confess that, whoever may be elected President on the 4th of November, we cannot see the faintest prospect of returning peace. The flower of safety is still too deeply embedded in the nettle danger to admit of being plucked at present. THE " SPECTATOR" ON THE GREAT GOVERNING FAMILIES.—From the Act of Settlement to 1831 English history is but the record of the intrigues of the governing families, and when in 1832 the pea plo deprived them of their legal autocracy,they and their cousins possessed a clear majority in Parlia ment, they bided their time, secure that in "the long run the influence of property was sure to tell." It did tell. Daring the long peace which followed 1832 their property increased enormously, the abi lity the class has always displayed led them to take the lead in all productive enterprise, they reformed agriculture, opened mines, built great harbours, planted forests, cut canals, accepted and profited by the railway system, and built the faubourgs of the great cities. Able and audacious, still regarded with curious liking by the people, and full of that individuality and sense of personal right which is the strength of an aristocracy, they again threw themselves into politics, and speedily regained nearly their ancient monopoly of power. They alone could afford to follow politics from boyhood as a profession, and that fact gave and gives them a twenty years' start of all competitors. They alone have as a class that instinct of control given to able individuals in all classes, and they therefore speedily monopolised high administrative office. Above all they alone had as a class not to be made known to the people. Smith must serve before a constituency knows who Smith is, but a Seymour's name tells the same constituency all about him, his antecedents and his connexions, his fortune and his tone. Hence a preference on the hustings almost ludicrously strong, so strong that in the counties a bad specimen of the class, some red-eyed, knock-kneed, gawky lad of twenty-one, has often a better chauco of public favour than the wan who has all his life been the guiding mind of the locality. So powerful has been the action of these circumstances, so engrained is in England the preference for these houses, that the thirty.one families whose histories we have related supply at this tnnalent, one clear fourth of the English House of Commons, the ultimate power in the State. We are not talking of so-called "influence." We have compiled a list of the several bo roughs and counties over which these house in quiet times exercise a direct ascendancy, but we decline to rest our argument upon such dile, putablo ground. " Influence" may be interpreted anyhow, and we have a better test. Here is a list of 70 members now sitting in the Lower House, and unmistakeably belonging to the 31 H. J. Adeano, grandson of Ist Lord Stanley of Alderley —Cambridgeshire Vil2ortnt Andover, eldest eon of Earl of Suffolk bury 1...... Hon. A. H. Baring, son of 3d Lord Ashburton — T heta. ford Sir F. Baring, nephew of let Lord Ashburton, and son. in law of Ist Earl Effingham and Sir G. Grey—Ports mouth T. Baring, nephew of Ist Lord Ashburton—Hunting don T. G. Baring and H. Bingham Baring, cousins of 2d and 3d Lords Ashburton—Penryn and Marlborough Cavendish Bentinck, grandson of the Duke of Portland and of Ist Earl of Lonsdale— Taunton G. W. P. Bentinck—West Norfolk Berkeley, son of sth Earl Berkeley—Brist ol F. W. F. Berkeley and C. P. F. Berkeley, sons of Lord Fitzhardinge—Cheltenham and Gloucester Sir Richard Bulkeley, son in law of Lord Stanley of Alderley—Anglesea J. B. Wentworth Buller, married niece of Duke of Nor' folk—North Devon Lord Burghley, son of Marquis of Exeter—North North' ampton Hon. F. H. Calthorpe, grandson of 6th Duke of net ity. fort—East Worcester Lord G. Cavendish, brother to Duke of Devonshire-- North Dorby Lord R. Cecil, son of Marquis of Salisbury—Stam ford Lord A. Churchill, son of sth Duko of Marlboro u g h" Woodstock Lord H. Clinton, son of Duke cf Newcastle — N orth Notts G. Clive—Hereford Hon. 0. H. Clive, grandson of Earl of rowis- 1,0 1 0 A. Baillie Cochrane, married granddaughter of sth Dag of itutland—Honiton Lord Enfield, grandson of Ist Marquis of Anglesor* Middlesex Hon. C. W. Fitzwilliam, son of 3d Earl Fitzwillia nr° Melton Lord F. Fitzroy,.son of Duko of Grafton—Thetford Col. G. C. Forester, grandson of 4th Duke of Rutland"". Wenlock Hon. E. F. Levcson-Gower, son of Ist Earl Granvil le and eon in law of Duke of Devonshire—Bodmin Granville Leveson-Gower—Reigate Lord Montagu Graham, grandson of Duke of Manchester —Herefordshire Sir George Grey, nephew of 2d Earl Grey—Morpeth Lord Grey de Wilton, cousin to Earl Derby_weyrnou th Earl Grosvenor, son in law of 2d Duke of Sutherland - ' Chester Lord R. Grosvenor, son of Marquis of Westminste r.° Flintshire Marquis of Hartington, son of Duke of Devonshire, Ol d grandson of Earl of Carlisle —North Lancashire Robert Harvey, brother in law of Duke of Buckingh ° —Bucks Right Hon. S. Henley, grandson of Earl of Westroored land—Oxfordshire Viscount Holmesdale, grandson of Earl of Beverley' West Kent Eee i Hon. C. W. Howard, son of 6th Earl of Carlisle — Cumberland Lord Edward Howard, son of 13th Duke of Norfolk' Arundel. Lord Ingestre, son of Earl of Shrewsbury—N °rtil Stafford Earl Jermyn, grandson of Duke of Rutland—West Suffolk F. N. Kingscote, grandson of Duke of Beaufort- - W e°t Gloucester of W. H. P. Gore-Langton, son in law of 2d Duke Buckingham—West Somerset Sir Baldwin Leighton, nephew to Lord Stanley of Alder' ley— South Salop Lord George Lennox and Lord Henry Lennox, sons sth Duke of Richmond—Lymington and Chichester t Hon. H. G. Liddell, great grandson of Duke of Sower° —South Northumberland Lord Lovaine, heir of Duke of Northumberland—N orth Northumberland met U. Lowther, grandson of Ist Earl of Lonsdale- - Cumberl and var e sto Hon. H. Lowther, son of Ist Earl of Lonsdale-- - moreland Lord John Manners and Lord George Manners, son s of _ Bth Duke of Rutland—Leicestershire Lind Cambridgeox —he. •• H. F. Mildmay, grandson of Lord Ashburton, also CAu s of the Clives—Herefordshire Lord R. Montagu, son of 6th Duke of Manchester.' Hunt in Lord A. gdonshiro lot Paget, and Lord Clarence Paget, sons of th e Marquis of Anglesey—Lichfield and Sandwich Col. Douglas Pennant, son in law of Duke of Graftolk° Carnarvon shire Hon. W. Portman, son in law of Earl Fitzwilliate Dorset Arthur Russall, nephew to Duke of Bedford—Tevis ttle F. C. Hastings Russell, nephew to Duke of Bedford Bedfordshire Alfred Seymour—Totness H. Danby Seymour—Poole Poulett Samerset, grandson of Duke of Beaufort Monmouthshire Lord Stanhope, son of Earl of Chesterfield—South Notts Lord Stanley, son of Earl of Derby—King's Lynn s Hon. W. 0. Stanley, son of Lord Stanley of Alder's , ' Beaumaris Lord Henry Thynne, grandson of I,t Lord Ashbu r l and married to a daughter of Duke of Somorset- - S °ll Wilts Right Hon. C. P. Villiers, brother to Earl of Clarendon —Wolverhampton Sir Charles Wood, son in law of 2d Earl Grey—flakyl This list might be expanded greatly by a caro l ' s search through the alliances of the members, 131!t we prefer to keep beyond cavil or dispute, se!' ; is sufficiently long. Add to it those connecti on the dependent boroughs like Caine, in which the proprietor does not teat a relative, the counties l f which the magnate holds a practical balance °, power, and therefore though he cannot appoin t° l veto any appointment, and we shall find that tb, 3l families at this moment supply 110 members, (3 :, a clear working fourth of the English section da l representation, „ - havo in fact as great a direct PeW ee j as the whole kingdom of Ireland, double that:' t Scotland, five times that of London, as muchastm fi d of London and the 40 next greatest cities. Ir„ then we are told by silly Radicals that in consi der ing the origin and history of these houses We 11 , r e , pqndering to the flunkeyiem of the British pe o p i kt Why we believe it to be beyond all shadow of d o l e that when we have added the great Irish and t o great Scotch proprietors, it will be found that. d, families supply, and for generations have supP ile o i one-fourth of the House of Commons, one.fourtb, the ultima e governing power fur an empire &Il e includes a fourth of the human race. COUNTRY MARRRTS. COLCHESTER—SErr. 24. n rke t We had a fair supply of grain on offer at our In- ~0, to-day, and the trade was slow at about is under late l', 1 : 1 , 0 Fine barley not plentiful, and such is saleable at previviif quotations. Beans easier to buy. Peas scarce, and fu" as dear. ~2 SO Wheat, white 40s 46s Beans, Mazagan.. Q , A dos red 36s 42s middle & small.3ss 3 80 Barley Oats GLOUCESTER—SiT. . a There was a plentiful supply of new grain which to d. at to keep down prices, so that we must quote inglish and barley is cheaper. NORTIIAMPTON—SEPT. 24. et Wheat in fair show to-day, and sold at from is to .P. o P e o. qr decline on late quotations. Foreign dull at late PO 4 "; —White wheat, new, 39s to 438; new red, 37s 074' old. 388 to 41s per qr. Barley, new malting,.32B to Beans, 39s to 42e. Peas, 37s to 42s per qr. —EPT. 23 At this corn exchange to CHELMSFOR ay the re was a . l a rge supP iv of wheat, with a heavy trade, and last week's quotations or, ceded—best samples ls, and interior 2s per qr ch ca gt Barley inactive, at barely late prices. Beans and O a former rates, and bteady. Wheat, old white 40s 45s new 40s 41s old red 39s 40s new 37s 40s Barley ..25s 32s Chevalier 26s 33s Grinding 205 288 Ma1t... Chevalier 64s 68s Oats 20s 26s 580 Peas, Partridge 363 540 White 303 ?" Boiling 383 4 0 Dun - 310 . ..4 Ditto new ---s e l Beans, Tick, old 34s A new - --0 580 Harrow Ticks 350 ~..0 new - -4 580 Mazagan 330 KIRKCALDY GRAIN—SErr. 17. get We had good supplies of barley and oats at our Zaf 4r „ o ll to-day, but small of wheat. Last week's prices were 1:11'. the same. Wheat. Barley. Oats. First....—s Od I 25s Od I 18s Od Second .. 39s Od 27s Od 19s 6d Third....los Od 29s Od 21s Od COAL MARKET. - rrioca of Coal per Ton at the close of the market. [s. d. Walls End. a , 0 0 , Byass's Bel3side West Hartley . .. 19 3 South Kelloe 20 0 Cowpen Hartley 19 3 Haswell .. •2 1 6 Holywell ..18 6 Tunstall ... ...... • • ig 6 Lambert's West Hart- !Hartlepool ..2 6 ley 19 01 Belmont ...... .19 0 Hastings Hartley ....19 3 M usse l' s Raton ...... 20 0 . o 0 ~ North Felton Gas,., _,14 01 Heugh Hall ......... •, 1, l) Walker Primrose 14 01 E as t H ar tl epoo l.... •. ' Wylam 18 61 Ships at market, 76 ; sold, 46 Bths. CADELL.—On the 24th inst ir ~ at Boulogne, the wife 0. ; car tain 11. M. Cadell, of a son. Of LANSDOWNE,—On the 21th inst. at Hastings, the s cl George Lansdowne, Esq., of 53, St. Augustine - *,." Camden- square, London, of a son. n 14 , 0 PASLEY,—On the 22d inst., the wife of Capt. PasloYt prematurely, of a eon, stillborn. tg Wriutiusx.—On the 25th inst., at 6, Cadogan-pific e l Joshua Wimbush, of a daughter. Marriages. fo MOORHEAD—LEISIDIAN —On the 21st just. , - ° th e Manse, William Moorhead, Esq., London to Jal let daughter of the Itcv, Dr. Leishinan, minister 01 a ° parish. thOl i6 MosTYN—WARREN.—On the 22d inst., at the Church of St. Jchn the E vange li s t, Bath, Char i .,%'oo of the late Hy. Mostyn, Esq., of Usk, to Jane, Y°""" daughter of the late Mr. M. Warren, of Somerset. Deaths. b Oaf BIIOOKE —On Ilia 23(1 lust" at Ac'on-park, near Lady LortiFa Tollemacheßrooke. BATES.— On the 24th inst., at New Lodge, Windsor For ' Joshua Bates, Esq., aged . 76. welit CALDWELL —On the 22d inst., at Bath, Lady Cal d widow of the late Sir Henry John Caldwell, Bar t. t ad LANDOII,—At Florence, Walter Savage Lander, of loPuth` Monte shire, Warwicksbire, and Lanthony Abbey, -- shire, aged 60. go. MACCONNELL.—At Tavistock-street; e 'l3-dford-square, Mtcoonnell. -- NI ABSI' London: Prinpd and Prblished by WILLIAM A- vo. 11 54 of No. 112, Strand, Printer, at 'Luz SUN Offie e „„ty Of Strand, Jn. the Precinct of the lavoy , iv the V l A''' ' Aliddlesex,—Tuesday, September 27,1884.